


Six Feet Under

by Fanciful_Flesh



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Cutting, Kidnapping, Other, Potential TW for claustrophobia, Torture, small spaces
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:27:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29729007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanciful_Flesh/pseuds/Fanciful_Flesh
Summary: (This fic features something I call a “mystery boyfriend”. Basically, you won't know who you're dealing with until the end!But there are little hints within the fic...or you can just skip to the bottom of the fic/notes to find out cause that last hint is pretty obvious, lmao. But why not take a chance, yeah~?Depending on how folks feel about this format, I might tag the 'boyfriend' later though!)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Six Feet Under

You wake up to the sound of a deafening rumble, surrounded by darkness as you lay on your side. Confused, you try to move your body, but to no avail, and quickly realize that your wrists are bound in front of you by what feels like duct tape. Your mouth is covered with tape as well, but your legs aren’t restrained at all. Yet with how sore your body felt, especially around your head, arms, and thighs, you probably wouldn't be able to run anyway. But you still had to figure out where you were, and how you got here...

Given the lack of space, the heavy scent of gasoline, and the way your body occasionally bounced around, only one location came to mind; the trunk of a car. And most stories that featured people being stuffed into trunks didn't end well.

Panic was taking over and it was getting harder to breathe. How did you end up in someone's trunk? Were they going to kill you, or did they already think you were dead? Why _you_ , of all people? Sure, you weren't exactly a saint, but you couldn't think of anything you had done to deserve this.

Focus. _Focus._

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves as best as possible. And once you were a little more calm, you tried to remember what had happened earlier that day...

You remembered leaving your apartment to go for a late night walk, but didn’t bother to charge your phone before you left. By the time you were three blocks away from home, your phone had died, and you had kindly asked the nearest stranger for the time. The conversation wasn’t long, but by the time you had turned to leave, something hard had hit you upside the head. And everything that happened next was like a scene from a horror film…

You remembered waking up on the floor in a strange room, stripped down to only your underwear, and with your wrists tied up much tighter than they were now. You remembered seeing _him_ for the first time. He was nothing like the man you had casually approached earlier that night; as if they were a different person entirely. Someone with terrible intentions.

But it shouldn’t have surprised you, really. You were in _their_ environment, where they felt the most comfortable. If the odds weren’t stacked against you before, they certainly were now. And before you knew it, a blade was against you too.

You remembered the coldness of it being pressed against the warmth of your thigh, and the sharp sting that followed once your skin was sliced open. The sight of your captor’s sick smile made you feel nauseous and you remembered begging them to stop.

You had mentioned that the blade was too deep. That the line they were making was too long. That too much, _way_ too much, of your blood was dripping onto the floor. And yet, they ignored your pleas in favor of doing more damage to your body. Slice after slice was made along the same thigh, before your other leg received the same treatment. Then came the shorter and deeper cuts along your arms, and even an experimental slice down the lower part of your back until you sat in a tiny pool of your own blood.

You passed out soon after. 

And instead of waking up at home from this horrible nightmare, you woke up a few hours later in the trunk of _his_ car, with your partially open cuts still burning. Desperately, you tried to listen out for other vehicles; more cars meant more people. Maybe if you screamed loud enough or used your body to shake the car around, even just a little, then maybe the trunk would catch someone’s attention.

But people usually weren’t out this late, and the only thing you could hear was the roaring, sputtering engine. It was practically a hearse, carrying you off to your doom. Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes as the memories of what had happened replayed themselves over, and over.

You should have stayed home. You should have charged your phone. You shouldn’t have spoken to that stranger in the first place, you should have tried to fight _him_ off, you shouldn’t have-- 

It didn’t matter.

Not when the only thing you could hear now was that stupid engine, and rubber tires rolling against a road made of either dirt or gravel. And every time they rolled over a pothole, your body bounced hard enough to hit the roof of the trunk, making your head throb. They could have at least let you keep your clothes; you were still half naked and the cool air in the trunk was making you shiver. Your underwear wasn’t doing much to keep your sensitive bits warm, but it was slightly better than nothing.

Eventually, the car slowed down and the sputtering engine lessened in volume before being shut off completely. There was the sound of an opening door and some shuffling coming from outside, causing your heart to race. You weren’t ready to see _him_ again; it was too soon, too fast, and you didn’t have any sort of plan in mind. But you had to think of something, _anything_ , to keep your mind at ease.

So, just as the trunk clicked open, you closed your eyes tightly and held your breath, trying your best to play dead. At least you wouldn’t have to worry about _him_ knocking you out again… 

Or be forced to look at the pale blue eyes that were barely hidden beneath a curtain of blonde bangs.

**Author's Note:**

> (It's Lawrence "Plant Man" Oleander! I haven't written anything for Law in a while, so he'll be getting a two-parter to make up for it. As always, I welcome advice and tips because I'm always looking for ways to improve. ^^ 
> 
> Let me know how you feel about the "mystery boyfriend/mystery murderer" format, since I wanted to try something new.
> 
> ALSO!! I have some tumblr exclusive fics like "Towelette" and "Moist Towelette", so come on down to https://fancyfearful.tumblr.com for more gross fics. Unless you're a minor. NO MINORS ALLOWED.)


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